Creeks Story: Part 1
Her mother left her with her father, and for what? Is it because of her scar on her face, hidden now by a thick, black, leather mask wrapping around her muzzle, tied thickly at the back. The leather irritated her nose, and it rubbed on the flesh revealed, making her bare her teeth and grind her claws in the ground. The mask was painful, but not as much as the judgement would be.
"Creek," her father called with a booming voice. All he got was a few taps to the stone with her claws, and the paw steps down the stairs. "The creatures are feeding us, time to eat." Her father dipped his head into the food bowl, and she looked distastefully at the kibble. She could still feel the taste of mouse and rabbi in her maw, the gentle meat treating her mouth with savory flavors. She drooled at the thought. Nonetheless, she dipped her head to the metallic blue bowl, whiskers tickle by the drops of pseud meat-flavored ovals.
She stared at the open window, her mind drifting off while she chewed the slop, collarless neck itching. She darted up the stairs, long and tall body but short legs prominent in the short bursts. With how she heaved, she knew that her lungs were damaged from the incident. She shuddered, and bounded to the bed and slumped into the covers, tracing patterns with a claw.
"Will there ever be an escape?"